


Battlefield Blossoms

by The_Sunflower_Seed



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Going to have some spoilers, Lots of drama, Might detract a bit from the original plot, You are the main character!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Sunflower_Seed/pseuds/The_Sunflower_Seed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have to fight to survive now that the CIA is after you and your friends. Your allies are the people whom are supposed to be against you. Can love blossom on the battlefield? Or is that an illusion?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just to let you guys know, I own D-Jay and Marquette so if you want to use them, ask for permission!

**Key:**

**(f/n) = Your First Name**

**(l/n) = Your Last Name**

**(e/c) = Your Eye Color**

**(h/c) = Your Hair Color**

**(h/l) = Your Hair Length**

**(s/c) = Shirt Color**

**(p/c) = Pants Color**

**(c/c) = Car Color**

**(i/n) = Industry Name [ex. Fashion, Services, Medical, etc.]**

* * *

This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good at all! You have been kicked out of the office by your own uncle! This was outrageous! It was despicable! It was…it was…relieving. Your life has went downhill since your own existence. Your mother was an heiress to the company your uncle transformed and possessed. She had sold the (i/n) company to him for money on crack. And your father? He was one of those scam artists who tried to get rich quick. In general, he wasn’t a very good man at all. At one point or another, you were pretty much volunteered to be part of an experiment all so your parents could get money for their own ambitions.

Looking back on the experiment now, you were glad that your parents made that decision against your will. You were taught how to infiltrate the world’s greatest computer systems, your intelligence was pretty high for an average human, your reflexes were enhanced to the point you could tie yourself in a knot, and that wasn’t even the start! For a while you did work for the government. It wasn’t bad but you didn’t take orders very well. A lot of them had to do with “sitting” and “waiting”. You were a person of action! You had to do something!

When the government had hit its low point, (something about aliens coming and attacking the Earth. Pfft…whatever!) You quit. Out of the blue you quit. They didn’t seem to miss you much. After all, you changed your identity so many times you actually forgot your birth name and adopted a new one. It was a wonder on how your uncle found you.

Scratch that, you did remember how he remembered you and where you guys met up. It wasn’t too long ago. Nah, it was a while ago, or something like that. You sucked with dates yet you could remember how to hack super intelligent computers in over five hundred keystrokes. Joshua Joyce, your uncle, and the CEO of KSI. (Kinetic Solutions Incorporated, it pops in your head automatically.) You were visiting your uncle’s property, remembering the days of your childhood that didn’t suck. Your uncle Joy was a very caring man; he took care of you when your parents were in jail for a while. The ice cream, the fields of golden grain, and his vacation house a figure of modern luxury. It was fun playing as “Future House” whenever you came over; you were the master while you stayed. That was the only place on this planet that felt like home until you were sent away.

Your (h/c) shined brightly in the sun as the cool breeze made your (h/l) flutter behind you. Taking in a deep breath, the smell of earth reminded you of running outside playing monster with Uncle Joy. Footsteps crunched behind you. You turned, about to dash out of sight in case there were new owners who thought you were a threat to them. It surprised you when your uncle wrapped you into a warm embrace and cried about his little girl.

Your heart had iced over when you joined the military but now, it melted and you couldn’t help but sob. It hurt to be away for so long and now you were finally home. Shortly after the reunion, Joyce had offered you a place at his company. A safe and secure job compared to you usually doing underground arenas and other stuff that you weren’t too proud of. You agreed, only on the condition that your parents had no idea that you were back. Joyce smiled and made that deal with you, placing you as vice president of the company, the heir to the company, and his personal advisor.

It felt nice.

You despised the paperwork yet your uncle only gave you a pile of paper a month to sort through. The rest of the time, you were physically shaping the company. You did press conferences, you were practically the poster child of the company. It earned you fame and fortune. You didn’t mind both but the fame was important for reputation. It sent messages to your enemies in the underground world that if they dared to mess with you, then they would face the CIA who were the “enforcement” of the company and also deal with the media who’d ruin everything that they ever worked for.

Speaking of which, you were cleaning out your office. You were forced to leave all your flash drives here and hand over anything that belonged to the company. It sucked but you knew why you were kicked out anyways. There were rumors circulating about Transformium and where it was coming from. That wasn’t what caught your attention; what did was that somebody said they were of Autobot origin and you met the bounty hunter Lockdown through Attinger and Savoy.

It piqued your interest to investigate. Normally you’d be honorable because of your uncle. When you started going into those files to investigate the rumors, you were locked out. That was strange only because your uncle never hid stuff from you. You both were honest to one another. This only made you worry that your uncle bit off more than he could chew especially if the CIA were involved now. So going back into the dirt, you hacked and actually downloaded some information that seemed important to your new holographic tablet of your own design. In an hour, Joyce came in escorted by Attinger and Savoy.

That didn’t look good. You rose from your comfortable chair, straightening out your (s/c) shirt and clasped your hands behind your back, face cold and stony.

“Is something wrong?” You raised an eyebrow, playing dumb. Of course you knew something was wrong because you were the cause of it. Joyce looked back at the two CIA agents with a pleading look. He was shot down as Savoy walked up to your desk. He didn’t look happy. Internally you were glad to finally get some sort of emotion out of the normally passive man. He took off his shades and growled, “Miss (l/n) we have reason to believe that you had indeed hacked into some private files of the company.”

Oh they were going to play this game? Fine!

Rolling your eyes, you looked at Savoy and scoffed, “I have no idea what you are talking about. Though now I’m wondering, what private files?”

“You know damn well! We tracked the coding used to hack the files back to this office!”

Oh shit! You forgot about that! You had to get out of trouble. If you didn’t…you knew what the consequences were and at this time it doesn’t seem like a bad idea to have your old enemies try to assassinate you. That was more appealing than what the CIA had for punishment. Calmly, you sat in your chair and got your feet up on the desk, relaxing into the leather.

“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. I could leave my computer and flashdrives up for your investigation. I honestly am telling you that I have no idea what these files are and why I’d be interested in them.”

This time instead of Savoy, Attinger came to your desk along with your uncle. You know Attinger is a master at spotting a lie. Luckily you were taught to lie and so far, you have lied to Attinger and gotten away with it. Joyce, worked at his sleeves and looked into your (e/c) to see if you were lying.

“(F/n), did you or did you not hack into the private files?” It broke your heart to hurt your uncle. You had to lie to him or else get screwed over by CIA. You shook your head no. Joyce looked at Attinger pleadingly only to be rejected with a sharp nod. He sighed and what came out of his mouth shocked you.

“You’re fired.” It was over. You were secure, safe, and happy. That was all gone with those two words. It hurt so much to be rejected by your uncle, the one who cared about you the most. Inside you were in a hurricane-tornado hybrid turmoil while you stayed soft and calm outside. With a nod, you replied, “Alright. I guess I’ll pack up and leave.”

“Your flash drives and anything belonging to the company stays here.” Attinger spoke. You glared at him and bit out, “I know that! I’m the one who wrote those for the company.” He didn’t like that and made no move to physically hurt you. It didn’t matter. You pulled out a transporting box and started packing, paying no mind to the men in the room. They left at some point and you _still_ didn’t care.

Staring at your (p/c) pants, there was dust collected around your thighs. This box was pretty old and the cardboard still worked like brand new. The last picture, you placed into the box was recently where you did a last press conference about the company and the title of the article read: **FUTURE CEO?** The title wasn’t what earned the frame, it was the content. You had a mysterious background and people were trying to find out what your past was about. Lots of theories were listed from adoption, to family relations, to being a fraud, or to being an actual individual. The newspaper company talked about you being a blossom ready to bloom.

A small smile graced your face as you gently placed the box next to your computer. You walked to your purse and whipped out your two flashdrives. One contained information on the next presentation about how Transformium could be used in the medical field while the other contained information on the next press conference about an accident that happened at a military base not too long ago.

‘Good luck uncle.’ You thought, grabbing your box, purse, and turned off the lights as you took one last glimpse at your office.

You handed over the keys to your office and the people who used to work for you, actually cried as you left the building. Some of them were genuinely sad to see you leave while others were complaining about, “They were the only person to get Joyce off our backs.” You went to the parking garage and sat in your (c/c) pickup truck. You didn’t like wealth yet you were smart about it and saved it. You left out a sad and tired sigh. You had many miles to go to your private farm. It was isolated and it contained most of your personal past. Starting the pickup, you drove out of the parking garage and never looked back at the building your new life began at.

Now there was something going on and you were going to find out what it was.

No matter what.


	2. Chapter 2

**Key**

**(h/c) = Hair Color**

**(f/n) = First Name**

**(s/n) = State Name**

**(j/c) = Jacket Color**

**(y/f/s) = Your Favorite Subject**

* * *

It felt nice going on this road trip. The windows were rolled down and the wind tussled your (h/c) locks behind you. The radio played in the empty air, filling the silence. It was still hard to fathom being fired…by your own uncle! You hit your steering wheel in frustration at your misfortune.

‘Damn CIA! Damn Savoy! Damn Attinger! And damn-’ Your phone went off with the ringtone “I’m So Fancy” by Iggy Azalea. You rolled your eyes. It was Marquette.

Oh you loved the annoying squirt; he was also one of the experiments who was subjugated to the military. He was good at being sneaky and hiding. A master prankster as people say and you had to agree with the people who’ve met him. He may look sweet and innocent on the outside but he always has some concoction of mayhem under his extremely flamboyant clothes. Smiling a little, you answered, trying to concentrate on the road while tucking the phone under your chin.

“Hello?”

“Hi (f/n)!” He cheerily greeted you, the background filled with music. You couldn’t exactly tell which music genre it was but you know where he was. It was at the music festival located not too far away from your farm property in (s/n). There was a booming noise in the background and it was the t-shirt cannons going off.

“Ouch! I just got shot by t-shirts!” The squirt fake cried. He was a kid after all. He wasn’t alone though. Before long, your other friend (apparently) snatched the phone out of Marquette’s hand and started talking to you.

“Yo (f/n)! Are you coming to music fest?” He asked. This was D-Jay. A great friend and he was roughly a year older than you. He was African American, that part shouldn’t have mattered and it didn’t, he was a great guy. He was the older brother you wish you had.

“Sorry not today, D-Jay. I got fired from KSI.”

There was silence on the other end for a couple minutes. There was movement and suddenly,

“YOU GOT FIRED!?!” Marquette screeched. Apparently you were on speaker phone. You withdrew from the phone and put it on speaker phone as well so then you didn’t lose your hearing to the troublemaker.

You swerved a bit as a reckless driver driving a yellow Camaro nearly plowed you over as they were coming onto the ramp. Doing a one finer salute you turned your attention back to the road and the phone call.

“What did you do?”

“Cool it M. I think (f/n) has a good explanation.” A grimace came over your face at that statement. You definitely knew that the government was listening on your conversations. It might seem like a flawless conversation; the background told a different story. You can hear the music from the festival yes it’s the static that gave a dead giveaway. That static from your training told you that someone was listening to your conversation.

You whipped out a pencil from your (j/c) jacket and tapped in Morse code “I CAN’T SAY IT OVER THE PHONE. I’M BEING WATCHED,” as you rambled about (y/f/s). Soon, Marquette giggled and said, “We’ll meet you at your place!”

“We’re going to be there anyways. We’ve been crashin’ there for a while. Hope ya don’t mind.” You couldn’t help but giggle. You did buy that property for your own ambitions and you let those two hooligans stay since they are still so close to you. They were your very extended family.

“Bye (f/n)!” the little punk yelled, his voice fading into the distance. You were going to hang up only for D-Jay’s voice to stop you.

“Hey, (f/n) listen. Your enemy, The Dealer, is back. I don’t want you to get into so much trouble for your first time back in a couple years but he’s been doing “business” if you know what I mean.” Oh that got your blood boiling! You were going to go kick his ass for that. You stepped on the gas and hurried home, D-Jay’s farewell being, “Be careful (f/n). Be careful.” You charged through the borderline state to (s/n) and decided to put The Dealer back in his place.

* * *

The Dealer was a man who dealt in much of the underground business. You name it: drugs, prostitutes, human trafficking, alcohol, and anything illegal, he can sell it. A black market salesmen if you want to be technical. This isn’t what made him a dangerous man. This man was constantly guarded by men trained to be assassins. That didn’t scare you. Actually they downright annoyed you. The Dealer was the one who almost jeopardized your friendship with both Marquette and D-Jay.

You turned on a dirt road, the sun had set, and it was extremely creepy. There were no other cars in this wooded area. It wasn’t hard to find them. The idiots decided to hide their cars in an empty parking lot behind a police station not too far from your location. There was a sole shack in the dark with a dim light and a huge muscular man was guarding the door.

Oh something was going down and you weren’t happy about it. With all that anger pent up in your body, you kicked your door open and didn’t bother shutting it behind you. No one was going to steal that old run down pickup. You stomped up to the door and immediately you recognized the bodyguard and he recognized you.

“Black Widow!”

“Bubba.” You growled. The big man immediately stepped aside to let you in. You threw open the door and stormed to the lower levels where there laid an arena all carved out of dirt and reinforced with concrete and brick. Dim lighting again shone your target, hosting illegal games and making profit on drugs. That got you to snap.

Bubba had followed you down here. He wasn’t threatening. Oh no, he was a follower of yours who only let criminals use this place as a meeting house. Not for their activities. You earned your nickname by assassinating criminal leaders. Especially those who dared to harm you and others. In a sense you were a vigilante. The arena was jam packed with men trying to fight for the money and trading drugs.

“Give me the microphone.” You snapped. Poor Bubba was terrified. Your temper was legendary among the ranks of the criminal world. He turned on the stereo you had built into the arena and handed you the mic. You turned on the button with a click. You watched as the people looked at the ceiling looking for an answer. Stepping into the main aisle, you put the microphone up to your plump lips and put on your best seductive voice.

That would drive the men crazy.

“Oh Dealer~” you sang. It wasn’t hard to pick out Dealer. He always called himself a gentlemen and dressed like one. He looked pretty sleek, dressing as though he was a gangster from the 1930’s. He was pale and his features were sharp. You cursed yourself inwardly. You liked men who had that suave look. He found you, his eyes steeled with fear.

Everyone watched as you walked down the aisle, your (j/c) jacket swaying to the rhythm of your feet. A lot of the people tucked themselves into their respective aisles as you walked to the center where the Dealer was trying to seem like he was tougher than you. That wasn’t how tonight was going to go down.

You stood in front of him with your microphone and did a once over of the arena. That was funny. No guards. Being a bit cautious you continued on with the seductive voice.

“I like how I said that this is a place to convene-“

“And it is.” Dealer interjected.

‘Bad move!’ You backhanded him for interrupting you. Silence filled the air.

“It is a place to convene and discuss. Not to sell or to divulge in death matches.”

The Dealer seemed stunned yet that cocky grin came across his face. A glint of metal caught your attention and you kicked it out of his coat pocket. He looked shocked and you started wailing on the poor soul. Everyone sat and cheered for you. It should’ve been uncomfortable but hey, you needed to teach this guy a lesson in “courtesy.” You stopped beating him after he crumpled to the ground and begged you not to beat him, he bribed you with all the money and merchandise he had on him currently.

It was enough to get by for a while.

“I-I p-p-promise…I’ll scram! I’ll conduct my business elsewhere, Widow!” he stammered and handed over the duffel bag filled with money and drugs. You faced the crowd of awed criminals and you yelled into the microphone, “Get out!”

Criminals scattered to get out, not wanting to face your wrath. The only people left after the commotion of exiting criminals were the Dealer and yourself. You walked over and crouched to his eye level, throwing a white handkerchief at him. He picked it up and waved it in surrender before dabbing at some blood on his face.

Satisfied he _finally_ got your message, you strolled out of the arena. Microphone tossed into the storage room and when you reached the top of the shack, your pickup was sitting there.

That might’ve been a little strange. You approached the pickup and did a once over. You checked for bombs, bugs, and of course tracking devices. Nothing was found. You jumped inside your vehicle and drove off, watching in your back mirror as the Dealer stumbled out.

* * *

It was pretty dark by now. Close to midnight if you guessed correctly. Your pickups radio was busted, so no clock. You’d look at your phone but it was lost to the abyss of darkness in the pickup. A reflector of green signified you were only a couple miles from your destination. A sigh of relief was the only sound in the vehicle.

Your life isn’t that screwed up. It got harder though with the recent hacking at KSI…

You immediately pulled over and after finding a flashlight stowed under the driver’s seat, you flicked it on and looked around. You went through the nearly spotless car and found your purse. You whipped it out, and dumped the contents on the driver’s seat, looking through the pile to make sure your holographic tablet didn’t get stolen. Throwing things here and there, you found two little black cylinders. Those were the bases for your tablet and when you activated it, you breathed a sigh of relief.

Everything was still there. All the stolen files and you haven’t been compromised…yet. Satisfied, you powered down the tablet and drove home.

* * *

The property was beautiful in its nearly rundown state. The barn was extremely rundown, filled with your special gear. The house itself looked pretty old with peeling white paint and the southern style house. The lights were all on and you peeked into your living room window. There D-Jay and Marquette sat, Marquette cuddled into D-Jay’s side. This wasn’t normal behavior but you couldn’t blame Marquette. He’s been through a lot of stuff and under his mischievous, playful self; he was mentally ill. It was hard to remember specifically what he had but as the doctor put it, “It’s a hybrid. PTSD mixed with abandonment issues.”

D-Jay was against it in the beginning. He stopped when he understood why the youngest member of their “family” did it. He didn’t like the gay comments thrown at him in the streets but he dealt with it. You smiled, seeing them finally relaxed and waiting for you made you feel happy. You walked on the moldy old porch and opened the screen door, letting it slam with a clack behind you. Immediately, Marquette sprang up from the couch and ran to you, enveloping you in a hug.

“We missed you!” The blonde giggled, his spiky hair tussled a bit by the night air. You hugged him back and D-Jay walked up to you both. He was always relaxed around you two; around other people was a different story. Marquette let go and stood next to D-Jay.

“How did you get fired? Are we going to be okay?...” It was hard to answer Marquette as he kept bombarding you with questions until a slight bonk on the head from D-Jay got the youngster to pause.

“Marquette, let (f/n) get a chance to breathe. She seems worn out.” That was true. Your body felt like lead and you really wanted to sleep.

“Can I actually grab some sleep? I haven’t slept in a couple days.” It was true. You’ve been on the road most of the time, only stopping to get gas and food. Marquette looked at D-Jay then to you before smiling an ok before bounding up the stairs. Apparently he was tired too. D-Jay smiled at Marquette’s retreating form before looking at you.

“Did you take care of-“

“Yes.”

“Are we in danger?” You froze at that question and smoothly, you replied, “I’ll explain in the morning.” With that, you decided to sleep on the couch. Not only because you were dead tired but because you have to make sure that no one comes onto the property. Especially the CIA.

“Goodnight (f/n).”

“Night D-Jay.” You replied. He did the honor of turning all the lights off. As you laid in the oh so plush couch, you looked out the window. It didn’t take you long to fall asleep, your mind drifting off to nirvana.


	3. Chapter 3

**Key:**

**(f/n) = First Name**

**(y/f/b/f) = Your Favorite Breakfast Food**

**(c) = Color**

**(m/c) = Metal Color**

**(f/c) = Floor Color**

**(c/t/m) = Coffee Table Material [ex. wood, glass, etc.]**

**(f/n/n) = Female Neighbor Name**

**(m/n/n) = Male Neighbor Name**

**(h/c) = Hair Color**

**(e/c) = Eye Color**

* * *

The sunlight streamed through the living room windows. You wanted to have a few more hours of sleep but when you’re up, you’re up. With a groan, you sat up from the couch and upon rising, you heard the sizzling of bacon along with the beautiful aroma of (y/f/b/f). You shot into the dainty kitchen and noticed Marquette trying to make (y/f/b/f) while D-Jay was using a spatula to fight off the greasy spit of the bacon with an occasional, “Oh no you don’t!” or “Ouch! Knock it off!” It was funny to see this guy who is a year older than you to be unharmed by beatings and injured by bacon grease.

A chuckle filled the kitchen air and it was you. It was surprising to feel this happy in a long time. You’ve been so busy with KSI that you neglected your miniature family. Marquette heard you and waved to you as he continued with breakfast.

“We wanted this to be a surprise for you!” D-Jay caught that and turned to wave at you before jumping ten feet away from the bacon. You burst out laughing, causing your other two friends to laugh out as well. For once this felt right. It was nice to be in their presence and connect with them. Their aura was friendly and comforting. They cared for you and you cared for them.

Softly a “ding!” sounded through the atmosphere and Marquette took the plate of (y/f/b/f) out of the oven.  The aroma was overwhelming. Smiling sweetly at your friends, you decided to help out and grabbed the plates, silverware, and glasses from an overhanging cabinet. You designed this wreck yourself and remodeled it. The kitchen cabinets were a beautiful (c) with shiny (m/c) knobs. The floors were a nice shiny (f/c).

You walked into the living room, placing the utensils on the (c/t/m). D-Jay and Marquette followed behind you later with the food. Your mouth watered hungrily for the food. Seeing that they didn’t bring out any coffee or drinks for that matter, you pried yourself away from the tasty food and trudge over with heavy legs.

‘Darn! I thought I was well rested.’ Reaching the fridge, you pried it open and winced on what was inside. Barren. Devoid of food and drink alike. Looks like you have to go grocery shopping soon. That was if you guys were still going to be around to do such a thing.

You saw the coffee pot over to the side and took it. You knew Marquette wasn’t supposed to have any since it’d make him uncontrollable hyper activity. A face palm to the forehead later you realized you hung around with the scientists at KSI for way too long. Walking back with the coffee pot in hand, those two laid out your breakfast, you seated in between them on the couch. It was hard to resist a teasing eye roll. They fought over who got to sit next to you like at a school cafeteria or by mom at a dinner table.

Setting the coffee on the coffee table, you sat in between them and started eating. The (y/f/b/f) was delicious! The food just oozed across your tongue and officially you are in heaven! Your friends are here with you and you’re eating your favorite breakfast in the entire world!

You were enjoying the food and your friends were as well. Although Marquette was a troublemaker, he made really good food; sometimes even better than you! The silence didn’t even last that long and you were glad it ended. This was too awkward.

“So…did something happen at the company?” Marquette asked unsure and trying to avoid bringing up the obvious subject on how you got fired. Silverware clacked against the plates and D-Jay reached over, smacking the kid upside the head.

“Marquette!”

“It’s okay.” You were calm. Eerily calm and that made both of your friends jump in surprise. They knew with that tone of voice, this was a serious situation. Finishing your equally shared breakfast, you dabbed the corners of your mouth with a napkin, and turned to the worry painted on Marquette’s face. You gently patted him on the head and looked to D-Jay who looked like he was ready to fight.

You rose to your feet and pulled out your two cylinders that formed your hologram tablet. They looked at it and before you showed them, you heard a rustling in the bushes. Your friends looked at the screen door that led to the bush and D-Jay quietly strolled to the screen door, he tried to open it quietly but because it was so old, it screeched pretty loudly. There was shuffling in the bushes again and D-Jay body slammed the bush.

“ **OUCH!!!!** ” came a scream. You immediately got up and stormed to the bush. You knew exactly who the hell these people were. They were your nosy neighbors. Ever since they found out you were biologically Joyce’s niece, they thought on trying to scam you for money by claiming they were your relatives on your mother’s side. There was a problem with that: your grandparents on your mother’s side only had two children. After that scam failed, they tried to file police reports and tried lawsuits to sue you for every penny you owned. They obviously failed. Now they were going after information that flew out of your mouth for their own purpose.

Reaching into the bushes, you hauled out the female ringleader, (f/n/n) and D-Jay grabbed her lover, (m/n/n). They were borderline rednecks. They wanted to be rednecks yet they wanted to be rich and live in higher society. Thus borderline redneck. They were filthy; all covered in dirt, hair plastered to their head, and their eyes shot daggers at you three. Marquette hid behind D-Jay, and trembled. Apparently it was triggering a mental session.

You threw (f/n/n) back into the bush and snarled, “Well if it isn’t (f/n/n), trying to sue me out of my possessions again?” She tossed her (h/c) hair back and her (e/c) just poured anger into your soul. Her lover was just the same; he also threw his (h/c) back and glared his (e/c) eyes into D-Jay’s sunglasses.

“I like how you two try anything to get dirt on us,” D-Jay hissed, cracking his knuckles before pushing a hand behind him. It was symbolic for “stay away from us”. You pulled out your cellphone and flipped it open, [you had a flip phone for conserving money and plus you just didn’t see a use for the IPhones’.] (F/n/n) had her eyes wide opened and stammered, “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh I will dare! This is the twentieth time you have trespassed on private property and not to mention I could pretty much sue you for a lot for the trespassing and the fact you are causing somebody harm right now.” When it came to your friend’s well being, you were fiercely protective of them, especially Marquette. (M/n/n) growled and before he could go head-to-head with D-Jay in a full out brawl, (f/n/n) grabbed his arm and haughtily said, “Fine. We’ll leave these greedy people to their fancy toys. We better get back and help mama with her oxygen pump. She’ll not make it long enough to see us get married.”

You rolled your eyes. They were trying to guilt trip you into giving them money. You knew that they lived alone on a farm that was handed down from generation to generation. They lived a few miles off from the main road. They lived to the east and judging by the mud that hid their blood stains, they tracked through their swamp and encountered your barb wired fence.

The couple threw one last glare at you before they turned on their heels and hurried to their property, whispering excitedly between one another. You grinned. Those dumb hicks. They didn’t see that you had placed surveillance on certain parts of your property and that you’re compiling ways to sue them for trespassing. Actually you were thinking of ways to petition them to get off their land since they’ve been causing some other people grief too. The police would be happy to evict them especially with all the fake lawsuits and other misdeeds.

Turning to Marquette, you put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, trying to somehow send reassurance to his soul.

“You feeling alright?”

“Y-yeah. I-I’ll be okay.” He stammered, obviously trying to brush it off like nothing happened. You frowned. He never told you guys what happened to him before and after you joined the military experiment. He was one of the recruits like you except he seemed like a drone then. Simply obeying orders until you showed him about being human. He looked healthier afterwards and more joyful. I mean now he was healthy and happy most of the time but to be honest, he was afflicted with a hybrid mental illness.

You coaxed him into a side hug and looked to the pickup. Alarms ran through your head.

The duffel bag was gone!

Oh you are so screwed if (f/n/n) and (m/n/n) had gotten their hands on it, they’d now have a reason to send the cops over! There were drugs in there and with over a million dollars in cash, they’d be happy to frame you for drug dealing. This wasn’t good! This wasn’t good at all! You ran to the pickup and threw open the doors to see if you might’ve put it in one of the seats. It wasn’t here.

Before you could chase after your nosy neighbors, D-Jay laughed, “Don’t worry, (f/n) I took them to the “room.” The cash is safe and you won’t have those two wannabe’s trying to get you into a courtroom again.” You breathed a sigh of relief. The room your friend was talking about was part of the design of the house. There was a secret passageway concealed by a certain cabinet and it led to the supposed basement where you stockpiled a bunch of money and other items you were not willing to share with anybody. Especially your uncle. That was the last person who needed to go inside that basement.

You peered over to the side and saw the couple at the tree line before the forest that dominated part of their property engulf their silhouettes. Looking back at your friends, you signaled them to follow you into the barn. They obeyed quietly, following you. Inside, it looked like a plain barn. You hit a button on the side and a monitor appeared in front of you. Pulling out your holographic tablet, you plugged part of it into a little module to the side. Before you turned it on, you looked at your friends who looked confused.

“I hacked the company computers. It isn’t for financial gain. Quite the opposite. There were rumors going around of my uncle working with CIA to hunt down Decepticons.”

“And it’s bad why?” Marquette asked. He routed for the Autobots and his face fell when you replied softly, “I think they’re hunting Autobot’s as well.” You turned on the screen.

“So are we in danger?” D-Jay asked. You nodded. The tablet screen popped up and you started going through the files looking for clips. You found them and grouped them together. Before you could start, D-Jay sidled up next to you.

“Are we in for some homework?” That was keyword for hacking and finding out more information on this event.

“Definitely.” The videos blew up full screen and some were projected around the room. It was filled with brightly colored robots crying out their names and being shot to death before shots finished their life forces and Lockdown came into view. Marquette looked shocked and D-Jay was stunned.

“We are going to be in for a lot of homework.”

A single gun shot ended the life of a robot who was a huge red robot. Lockdown finished him by grabbing his spark and ripping it out of his chestplates.

“And I mean a lot.”


End file.
